


Alone In The Universe

by enragedbees



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, M/M, theres so much angst oh my god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22313416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enragedbees/pseuds/enragedbees
Summary: Emile has no idea how to raise a child.
Relationships: Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Alone In The Universe

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks to the awesome thenewlarislynn on Tumblr for being my beta reader!
> 
> This is an excerpt from a completely self-indulgent AU I built that I thought I wouldn’t write anything from (lmao). This scene was based off of Alone In The Universe (Reprise) from Seussical, so if you wanted a song rec, I would suggest that :) as angsty as this gets, I hope you all enjoy!! Thanks!!!

Emile was exhausted.

He trudged through his apartment building, up the staircase and down the hallway, reaching his little apartment at the end. He pulled out his keyring and tried several times to get the correct key into the locked doorknob.

He pulled the door open and breathed in the smell of home: The homemade potpourri, long cold, still sitting in a saucepan on the stove. A warm vanilla sugar air freshener plugged into the wall. Baby powder, stomped into the carpet and dusting the tables.

It was the smell of a tiny family completely in love, and it remained untouched by the wrecking ball that had shattered Emile’s world into a billion hopeless pieces.

Emile’s keys plunked into the dish by the door. The babysitter came out from the other side of the room to announce that the baby was sleeping. Emile thanked her and pulled out his wallet.

“No. Please,” she insisted. “No charge. It’s the least I can do.”

Emile didn’t have the energy to argue, but she was out the door before he would have had the chance.

Emile sighed and loosened his tie, hung up his jacket, looked around the tranquil apartment in his button down. He wanted to start crying again, to get in bed and sob until he couldn’t feel his emotions anymore and never move again. But he had nothing left to cry. He was fragile, empty, waiting for the moment when something would knock him down and he’d shatter. The hole in his chest would expand and swallow him any minute.

He sat on the couch and pulled his legs up, resting his head against the arm of the loveseat. Every part of his body was heavier. Emile had never realized how much energy it cost to grieve..

Had it only been a few days? A week, tops. Everything blurred together.

Everything before had been crystal clear.

Emile could recall every single detail of everything around him when Remy kissed him goodbye for the day, if someone asked him to.

Every sound in the air, every object in his line of sight when he got the phone call from the scene.

The precise pattern of the cars, people, and buildings on the road while tearing to the emergency room.

The faces of everyone in the ICU waiting area, where he spent exactly 23 seconds before the doctor came in to find him.

And immediately after, Emile remembered nothing.

He might have spent that night in Logan and Patton’s guest room. He vaguely recalled the police at his door, saying something about a drunk driver, that they had arrested him. It didn’t matter. The damage was done.

The funeral that afternoon was the first time since that his vision was unclouded and his memory sharp.

And Emile was _exhausted._

The baby started to fuss in the next room over, and Emile opened his eyes, not realizing when he closed them. He pushed himself up and walked into the bedroom, stopping above the crib.

Remy had wanted kids so badly. He wanted to raise a child better than his parents raised him, to undo the negativity his parents put into the world with him. He wanted to teach them about everything he knew was important, make sure they learn things they shouldn’t have to learn about on their own. He wanted to love and raise them and watch them change the world.

It terrified Emile. Of course, he wanted that too, but there were so many things to worry about. Some small thing he did when they were babies could damage them forever. He could do something wrong and literally _ruin their lives_. He didn’t know anything about raising children and he didn’t want to screw it up.

But Emile knew that with Remy, he could do it. He could push down his fear and do everything he had to do to raise them properly. They would figure it out together, and Remy would keep him grounded. And as long as they loved and supported their kids unconditionally, he couldn’t mess them up too badly, could he?

But now, Emile didn’t know what to do.

He looked down at the baby, barely two and a half months old. After a few months of deliberation, they settled on Sebastian. A compromise; it was relatively uncommon and interesting, but he had the honor of sharing a name with a beloved cartoon character.

Sebastian squealed and kicked, threatening to completely melt down. Emile reached into the crib, picked him up, resting him against his shoulder, and walked to the kitchen to get a bottle of formula. Sebastian stilled before they reached the fridge.

Emile hummed. “You just wanted attention, didn’t you?” He cradled Sebastian in the crook of his arm and headed back to the living room. They settled on the couch, and Sebastian leaned into Emile and began to drift off.

Emile took a big breath as another pang hit his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again and gazed down at the sleeping baby in his arms.

“I guess it’ll just be you and me for a while, huh.”

Emile remembered the first time he held Sebastian, just like this. He was just a swollen, red, wrinkled bundle of possibility then. He was even tinier than he was now. Emile could barely believe how much he’d grown and developed in only two and a half months.

All of Emile’s fear dissipated the first time he held Sebastian. Holding him, Emile knew it was _right._ However afraid he felt was irrelevant.

The anxiety returned a few days later. Milder, but constant. Remy had helped to alleviate it.

Emile ached again and he blinked a few times. He sighed.

“I should probably tell you that I don’t know what I’m doing,” Emile admitted, fighting the lump in his throat and the pressure behind his eyes. “I mean, theoretically, I should be able to figure out what you need from me. But I’m sorry in advance if I panic or do something wrong.”

Remy had been so happy. Emile had been able to control his tears up until the moment Remy first held the baby and started crying. Sebastian had immediately cuddled up to Remy and fallen asleep. It was like he knew that he was with his family for the first time.

Sebastian stretched and yawned, then settled back against Emile, cheek squishing against his arm. An intense stab shot through Emile’s chest and his eyes burned. His bottom lip quivered.

“But I promise I’ll be the best dad I can,” he said, hot tears leaking out of his eyes and down his chin. “I promise I’ll love you, no matter who you are or who you become. I’ll always pick you up from school. I promise I’ll pack your lunches every day and I’ll help you with your homework. I promise that I’ll _always_ be here for you.”

Emile lifted an arm and wiped away the tears now streaming uncontrollably from his eyes. “And I swear, I will never, _ever_ , let any harm come to you,” he sobbed. “As long as you need me, you’ll always have me.”

Sebastian’s eyes opened. He lifted a tiny hand up, reaching for Emile’s face, and babbled. Emile let out a laugh, dragging his soaked sleeve across his eyes. He lifted Sebastian upright and leaned his forehead against the baby’s, and Sebastian giggled.

“It’s you and me, okay?” Emile sniffed. Sebastian grabbed the frame of Emile’s glasses and tried to pull them off. Emile laughed again, laying Sebastian back to cradle him again, and handed him a toy off the coffee table in front of him.

Emile looked up, closing his eyes and allowing his tears to fall freely. In his arms, Sebastian gnawed on the colorful plastic of the toy. Emile took a deep breath and looked back down at the baby, smiled, and held him a little tighter.

Sitting there, his son in his arms, he allowed his heart to break open and shatter. Emile now had a promise to keep to someone who needed him to start working on putting the pieces back together.

And in the apartment of cold homemade potpourri and warm vanilla sugar and baby powder and love, the tiny family continued to live.


End file.
